


Not to Mention the Gods

by anti_ela



Category: Inda series - Sherwood Smith, Sartorias-deles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Growing Old Together, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 22:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anti_ela/pseuds/anti_ela
Summary: The queen is dead, and the king has abdicated. For the first time in Marlovan history, the former king left the capitol alive. And Evred, free after thirty years of service, looks toward the south, toward Algara, toward the man he owes an unpayable debt.-----Evred straightened the cuff of his sleeve, then pulled his hands behind his back. He would not fuss with the frayed hems, the thinning wool, the sewn and resewn seams of his academy coat. No one would notice, not with Inda and his wardrobe in residence; and the one for whom he worried would never care.





	Not to Mention the Gods

Evred straightened the cuff of his sleeve, then pulled his hands behind his back. He would not fuss with the frayed hems, the thinning wool, the sewn and resewn seams of his academy coat. No one would notice, not with Inda and his wardrobe in residence; and the one for whom he worried would never care.

The young Runner returned, expression deferent in mode but with quickly-shuttered alterations easily read by a king of thirty years. "Indevan-Adaluin and Tdor-Iofre will receive you. They have refreshments waiting, or you could rest first, as you choose, Evred-Si—Evred." He flushed.

Evred nodded, politely ignoring the stumble. It was not as though tradition had prepared any Marlovan for a peaceful transfer of power. "I would see them first."

They walked through the halls of Tenthen together, the Runner made anxious by the presence of a person so wholly outside of the paradigm, king-without-a-kingdom. What do you say to someone who used to rule you? Although Choraed-Hesea was so removed from life in Tenthen that he, and many others in the castle, had not thought of the king in years.

Evred was looking at the walls. The honey-colored stone of Tenthen seemed to hold sunlight. The windows, though high in the wall, had wide, slanted sills, and in each and every one a silver box held clinging, climbing vines, some of which were in bloom. A breeze from the golden plains beyond rustled the leaves and carried the spicy scent of flowers. Laughter from unseen women on guard rose up, then faded. Even the sound was different, muffled, soft—nothing like the closed-in hiss of the palace, suffocating and dark.

And he had bristled when Tdor called this home. He bowed his head, wondering if all his ancient jealousies would be so thoroughly defeated.

When the Runner stopped at a door, he almost passed by. The room was small, intimate in a way, but obviously official. More plants spilled over the sill here, and behind the desk were books and scrolls, maps, a variety of knives. Perhaps Tdor's study.

He turned to look at them, seated in wingback chairs. Tdor's expression had always carried her warm and thoughtful nature, but now her once-dark hair was streaked with white. The lines of her face were deepest by her eyes and in the corners of her mouth, signs left by laughter.

Evred breathed in, out, and looked at Inda.

Ten years had passed since Inda's last visit to the royal city. He wore his gray academy coat as well, but now the curling fall of his horsetail was silver to its tip. The colors of his scars had faded with time, but slight puckers revealed them to one who'd had each memorized. The steady brown eyes, the wide full lips—every feature so defined in memory was blurred now, but the mind behind them was still as legible in them as ever.

What he read there now was pain and wariness.

He dropped his gaze.

"Evred, be welcome. Sit, if you would. Are you hungry?" Tdor's voice was kind, but it had always been. It brought to mind all the dinners she had presided over, trying to unite them.

He shook his head slightly, then addressed her directly. "No, though I thank you. I must continue south. This audience will be short."

Her eyes flicked toward Inda, then returned to Evred. He resolutely did not follow her example. "May I ask what you seek in the south?"

"Sartor, and their mages." Movement in the periphery of his vision made him glance at Inda, who was rubbing his arm. "Yes," Evred said softly. "I hope to find a healer." They looked at each other a moment, then Evred turned away. He pulled in a breath, released it, and settled his gaze on the patch of sky above their heads. "You would not need to join me. When I told Taumad my intentions, he sent these."

He pulled the transfer token and anchor from his bag and stepped forward to give them to Tdor, who was mercifully closest. She accepted them, and the usual not-quite-sensation of magic buzzed against her. She turned them over in her hands, then passed them to Inda, returning her gaze to Evred.

The sunlight streaming in from the tall window illuminated every line in his face, every white streak in his auburn hair. When he bent his head, shadows obscured his expression, and she wondered if they looked as old as he, as worn.

Inda drummed his fingers against his chair, almost curled over the transfer token. He stopped, flexed his hand, and set the items aside. Without looking up, he asked, "Why?"

"Because you saved the world, from the Venn and from me, and I know what it cost you."

Tdor felt something buzzing inside her skin, unrelated to magic, and sat up straighter. Inda scrubbed his face with his hands. "No," he said, "you don't."

"Well," said Evred, then paused. "Because I gave a bad order."

"You were the king," he said, voice flat.

"I was a boy playing war games while you were fighting pirates," Evred said lightly. "Commanding. I was a field captain in name only when you had a fleet. I ask you, as a commander, would you have issued orders without scouting the field?"

"No."

"Diplomacy is much the same. I have never left this kingdom, yet I wanted to order the lives of those who lived half a world away."

Inda drummed on the chair, staring at nothing. When it became obvious he would not answer, Tdor said, "What will you do after?"

Evred smiled, the first of the meeting, and spread his hands out, palm up. "What I want and what will be are so rarely conjoined. Perhaps travel."

She checked on Inda, then stood and walked to Evred, staring up at him. After a moment, she gestured to the door. "Come, I have something to show you."

They walked out together, and she shut the door behind them. To the Runner, she said, "He won't seek you for some time. When he comes out, he may want to ride."

The Runner flicked his fingers over his heart and left. She watched him leave, then gestured to the closest woman on guard to send anyone seeking Inda to her instead. They continued in silence.

When they were midway between guard posts, she stopped. "I understand your reasoning, but please stay one night."

He frowned down at her, so disconcerting after years of being among the tallest residents of Tenthen. "What could one night change?"

"I don't know," she said. "I suspect, but it's—a pool of thought I've been reflecting on whose droplets are a thousand tiny observations made over the course of decades. If I describe it to you, I'm afraid it will seem like a puddle. Does that make sense?"

"No," he said.

She shook her head. "Never mind. What matters is this: I love Inda, and I think you should stay."

He half-lifted a hand, palm out, and looked over her shoulder. She turned, following his gaze. Framed by the leaves of vines, the river glittered in the midday sun. From this distance, white herons could just be seen, stalking the shallows for prey.

"Tenthen is beautiful," he said after a silence. "How could you tolerate leaving?"

"Our friends were with us, which can make many burdens light."

"Yes." He started walking again, hands clenched behind his back. "You would not humor me if you perceived a threat to Inda, however slight. We were never such good friends as that. One night."

"Thank you." She looked at him, wondering what life would be like without Inda's hand in hers. They did not speak for the remainder of the walk, and she was quiet even after she left him in their small library.


End file.
